Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  It was no time to scan the prophecie,

  Whether old Proteus true or false had sayd,

  That his decay should happen by a mayd:

  It’s late, in death, of daunger to advize,

  Or love forbid him that is life denayd: 250

  But rather gan in troubled mind devize

  How she that ladies libertie might enterprize.

  XXIX

  To Proteus selfe to sew she thought it vaine,

  Who was the root and worker of her woe,

  Nor unto any meaner to complaine; 255

  But unto great King Neptune selfe did goe,

  And on her knee before him falling lowe,

  Made humble suit unto his Majestie,

  To graunt to her her sonnes life, which his foe,

  A cruell tyrant, had presumpteouslie 260

  By wicked doome condemn’d a wretched death to die.

  XXX

  To whom God Neptune, softly smyling, thus:

  ‘Daughter, me seemes of double wrong ye plaine,

  Gainst one that hath both wronged you and us:

  For death t’ adward I ween’d did appertaine 265

  To none but to the seas sole soveraine.

  Read therefore who it is, which this hath wrought,

  And for what cause; the truth discover plaine.

  For never wight so evill did or thought,

  But would some rightfull cause pretend, though rightly nought.’ 270

  XXXI

  To whom she answerd: ‘Then it is by name

  Proteus, that hath ordayn’d my sonne to die;

  For that a waift, the which by fortune came

  Upon your seas, he claym’d as propertie:

  And yet nor his, nor his in equitie, 275

  But yours the waift by high prerogative.

  Therefore I humbly crave your Majestie,

  It to replevie, and my sonne reprive:

  So shall you by one gift save all us three alive.’

  XXXII

  He graunted it: and streight his warrant made, 280

  Under the sea-gods seale autenticall,

  Commaunding Proteus straight t’ enlarge the mayd

  Which, wandring on his seas imperiall,

  He lately tooke, and sithence kept as thrall.

  Which grieved receiving with meete thankefulnesse, 285

  Departed straight to Proteus therewithall:

  Who, reading it with inward loathfulnesse,

  Was grieved to restore the pledge he did possesse.

  XXXIII

  Yet durst he not the warrant to withstand,

  But unto her delivered Florimell. 290

  Whom she receiving by the lilly hand,

  Admyr’d her beautie much, as she mote well;

  For she all living creatures did excell;

  And was right joyous, that she gotten had

  So faire a wife for her sonne Marinell. 295

  So home with her she streight the virgin lad,

  And shewed her to him, then being sore bestad.

  XXXIV

  Who soone as he beheld that angels face,

  Adorn’d with all divine perfection,

  His cheared heart eftsoones away gan chace 300

  Sad death, revived with her sweet inspection,

  And feeble spirit inly felt refection;

  As withered weed through cruell winters tine,

  That feeles the warmth of sunny beames reflection,

  Liftes up his head, that did before decline, 305

  And gins to spread his leafe before the faire sunshine.

  XXXV

  Right so himselfe did Marinell upreare,

  When he in place his dearest love did spy;

  And though his limbs could not his bodie beare,

  Ne former strength returne so suddenly, 310

  Yet chearefull signes he shewed outwardly.

  Ne lesse was she in secret hart affected,

  But that she masked it with modestie,

  For feare she should of lightnesse be detected:

  Which to another place I leave to be perfected. 315

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Faerie Queene: Book V. The Legend of Artegall

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto I

  THE FIFTH BOOKE

  OF THE FAERIE QUEENE

  CONTAYNING

  THE LEGEND OF ARTEGALL

  OR

  OF JUSTICE

  I

  SO oft as I with state of present time

  The image of the antique world compare,

  When as mans age was in his freshest prime,

  And the first blossome of faire vertue bare,

  Such oddes I finde twixt those, and these which are, 5

  As that, through long continuance of his course,

  Me seemes the world is runne quite out of square

  From the first point of his appointed sourse,

  And being once amisse, growes daily wourse and wourse.

  II

  For from the golden age, that first was named, 10

  It ‘s now at earst become a stonie one;

  And men themselves, the which at first were framed

  Of earthly mould, and form’d of flesh and bone,

  Are now transformed into hardest stone:

  Such as behind their backs (so backward bred) 15

  Were throwne by Pyrrha and Deucalione:

  And if then those may any worse be red,

  They into that ere long will be degendered.

  III

  Let none then blame me, if in discipline

  Of vertue and of civill uses lore, 20

  I doe not forme them to the common line

  Of present dayes, which are corrupted sore,

  But to the antique use which was of yore,

  When good was onely for it selfe desyred,

  And all men sought their owne, and none no more; 25

  When Justice was not for most meed outhyred,

  But simple Truth did rayne, and was of all admyred.

  IV

  For that which all men then did vertue call

  Is now cald vice; and that which vice was hight,

  Is now hight vertue, and so us’d of all: 30

  Right now is wrong, and wrong that was is right,

  As all things else in time are chaunged quight.

  Ne wonder; for the heavens revolution

  Is wandred farre from where it first was pight,

  And so doe make contrarie constitution 35

  Of all this lower world, toward his dissolution.

  V

  For who so list into the heavens looke,

  And search the courses of the rowling spheares,

  Shall find that from the point where they first tooke

  Their setting forth, in these few thousand yeares 40

  They all are wandred much; that plaine appeares.

  For that same golden fleecy Ram, which bore

  Phrixus and Helle from their stepdames feares,

  Hath now forgot where he was plast of yore,

  And shouldred hath the Bull, which fayre Europa bore. 45

  VI

  And eke the Bull hath with his bow-bent horne

  So hardly butted those two Twinnes of Jove,

  That they have crusht the Crab, and quite him borne

  Into the great Nemœan Lions grove.

  So now all range, and doe at randon rove 50

  Out of their proper places farre away,

  And all this world with them amisse doe move,

  And all his creatures from their course astray,

  Till they arrive at their last ruinous decay.

  VII

  Ne is that same great glorious lampe of light, 55

  That doth enlumine all these lesser fyres,

  In better case, ne keepes his course more rig
ht,

  But is miscaried with the other spheres.

  For since the terme of fourteene hundred yeres,

  That learned Ptolomæe his hight did take, 60

  He is declyned from that marke of theirs

  Nigh thirtie minutes to the southerne lake;

  That makes me feare in time he will us quite forsake.

  VIII

  And if to those Ægyptian wisards old,

  Which in star-read were wont have best insight, 65

  Faith may be given, it is by them told,

  That since the time they first tooke the sunnes hight,

  Foure times his place he shifted hath in sight,

  And twice hath risen where he now doth west,

  And wested twice where he ought rise aright. 70

  But most is Mars amisse of all the rest,

  And next to him old Saturne, that was wont be best.

  IX

  For during Saturnes ancient raigne it’s sayd

  That all the world with goodnesse did abound:

  All loved vertue, no man was affrayd 75

  Of force, ne fraud in wight was to be found:

  No warre was knowne, no dreadfull trompets sound,

  Peace universall rayn’d mongst men and beasts,

  And all things freely grew out of the ground:

  Justice sate high ador’d with solemne feasts, 80

  And to all people did divide her dred beheasts.

  X

  Most sacred vertue she of all the rest,

  Resembling God in his imperiall might;

  Whose soveraine powre is herein most exprest,

  That both to good and bad he dealeth right, 85

  And all his workes with justice hath bedight.

  That powre he also doth to princes lend,

  And makes them like himselfe in glorious sight,

  To sit in his owne seate, his cause to end,

  And rule his people right, as he doth recommend. 90

  XI

  Dread soverayne goddesse, that doest highest sit

  In seate of judgement, in th’ Almighties stead,

  And with magnificke might and wondrous wit

  Doest to thy people righteous doome aread,

  That furthest nations filles with awfull dread, 95

  Pardon the boldnesse of thy basest thrall,

  That dare discourse of so divine a read,

  As thy great justice praysed over all:

  The instrument whereof, loe! here thy Artegall.

  CANTO I

  Artegall trayn’d in Justice lore

  Irenaes quest pursewed;

  He doeth avenge on Sanglier

  His ladies bloud embrewed.

  I

  THOUGH vertue then were held in highest price, 100

  In those old times of which I doe intreat,

  Yet then likewise the wicked seede of vice

  Began to spring; which shortly grew full great,

  And with their boughes the gentle plants did beat.

  But evermore some of the vertuous race 105

  Rose up, inspired with heroicke heat,

  That cropt the branches of the sient base,

  And with strong hand their fruitfull rancknes did deface.

  II

  Such first was Bacchus, that with furious might

  All th’ East, before untam’d, did overronne, 110

  And wrong repressed, and establisht right,

  Which lawlesse men had formerly fordonne:

  There Justice first her princely rule begonne.

  Next Hercules his like ensample shewed,

  Who all the West with equall conquest wonne, 115

  And monstrous tyrants with his club subdewed;

  The club of Justice dread, with kingly powre endewed.

  III

  And such was he of whom I have to tell,

  The champion of true Justice, Artegall:

  Whom (as ye lately mote remember well) 120

  An hard adventure, which did then befall,

  Into redoubted perill forth did call;

  That was to succour a distressed dame,

  Whom a strong tyrant did unjustly thrall,

  And from the heritage which she did clame 125

  Did with strong hand withhold: Grantorto was his name.

  IV

  Wherefore the lady, which Eirena hight,

  Did to the Faery Queene her way addresse,

  To whom complayning her afflicted plight,

  She her besought of gratious redresse. 130

  That soveraine queene, that mightie emperesse,

  Whose glorie is to aide all suppliants pore,

  And of weake princes to be patronesse,

  Chose Artegall to right her to restore;

  For that to her he seem’d best skild in righteous lore. 135

  V

  For Artegall in justice was upbrought

  Even from the cradle of his infancie,

  And all the depth of rightfull doome was taught

  By faire Astræa, with great industrie,

  Whilest here on earth she lived mortallie. 140

  For till the world from his perfection fell

  Into all filth and foule iniquitie,

  Astræa here mongst earthly men did dwell,

  And in the rules of justice them instructed well.

  VI

  Whiles through the world she walked in this sort, 145

  Upon a day she found this gentle childe,

  Amongst his peres playing his childish sport:

  Whom seeing fit, and with no crime defilde,

  She did allure with gifts and speaches milde

  To wend with her. So thence him farre she brought 150

  Into a cave from companie exilde,

  In which she noursled him, till yeares he raught,

  And all the discipline of justice there him taught.

  VII

  There she him taught to weigh both right and wrong

  In equall ballance with due recompence, 155

  And equitie to measure out along,

  According to the line of conscience,

  When so it needs with rigour to dispence.

  Of all the which, for want there of mankind,

  She caused him to make experience 160

  Upon wyld beasts, which she in woods did find,

  With wrongfull powre oppressing others of their kind.

  VIII

  Thus she him trayned, and thus she him taught,

  In all the skill of deeming wrong and right,

  Untill the ripenesse of mans yeares he raught; 165

  That even wilde beasts did feare his awfull sight,

  And men admyr’d his overruling might;

  Ne any liv’d on ground, that durst withstand

  His dreadfull heast, much lesse him match in fight,

  Or bide the horror of his wreakfull hand, 170

  When so he list in wrath lift up his steely brand.

  IX

  Which steely brand, to make him dreaded more,

  She gave unto him, gotten by her slight

  And earnest search, where it was kept in store

  In Joves eternall house, unwist of wight, 175

  Since he himselfe it us’d in that great fight

  Against the Titans, that whylome rebelled

  Gainst highest heaven; Chrysaor it was hight;

  Chrysaor that all other swords excelled,

  Well prov’d in that same day, when Jove those gyants quelled. 180

  X

  For of most perfect metall it was made,

  Tempred with adamant amongst the same,

  And garnisht all with gold upon the blade

  In goodly wise, whereof it tooke his name,

  And was of no lesse vertue then of fame: 185

  For there no substance was so firme and hard,

  But it would pierce or cleave, where so it came;

  Ne any armour could his dint out ward;

  But wheresoever it
did light, it throughly shard.

  XI

  Now when the world with sinne gan to abound, 190

  Astræa loathing lenger here to space

  Mongst wicked men, in whom no truth she found,

  Return’d to heaven, whence she deriv’d her race;

  Where she hath now an everlasting place,

  Mongst those twelve signes which nightly we doe see 195

  The heavens bright-shining baudricke to enchace;

  And is the Virgin, sixt in her degree,

  And next her selfe her righteous ballance hanging bee.

  XII

  But when she parted hence, she left her groome,

  An yron man, which did on her attend 200

  Alwayes, to execute her stedfast doome,

  And willed him with Artegall to wend,

  And doe what ever thing he did intend.

  His name was Talus, made of yron mould,

  Immoveable, resistlesse, without end; 205

  Who in his hand an yron flale did hould,

  With which he thresht out falshood, and did truth unfould.

  XIII

  He now went with him in this new inquest,

  Him for to aide, if aide he chaunst to neede,

  Against that cruell tyrant, which opprest 210

  The faire Irena with his foule misdeede,

  And kept the crowne in which she should succeed.

  And now together on their way they bin,

  When as they saw a squire in squallid weed,

  Lamenting sore his sorowfull sad tyne, 215

  With many bitter teares shed from his blubbred eyne.

  XIV

  To whom as they approched, they espide

  A sorie sight, as ever seene with eye;

  An headlesse ladie lying him beside,

  In her owne blood all wallow’d wofully, 220

  That her gay clothes did in discolour die.

  Much was he moved at that ruefull sight;

  And flam’d with zeale of vengeance inwardly,

  He askt who had that dame so fouly dight;

  Or whether his owne hand, or whether other wight? 225

  XV

  ‘Ah, woe is me, and well away!’ quoth hee,

  Bursting forth teares, like springs out of a banke,

  ‘That ever I this dismall day did see!

  Full farre was I from thinking such a pranke;

  Yet litle losse it were, and mickle thanke, 230

  If I should graunt that I have doen the same,

  That I mote drinke the cup whereof she dranke:

  But that I should die guiltie of the blame,

  The which another did, who now is fled with shame.’

  XVI

  ‘Who was it then,’ sayd Artegall, ‘that wrought? 235

  And why? doe it declare unto me trew.’

  ‘A knight,’ said he, ‘if knight he may be thought,

  That did his hand in ladies bloud embrew,

  And for no cause, but as I shall you shew.